


deep, deep under

by saretus



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Finger Sucking, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:34:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22901044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saretus/pseuds/saretus
Summary: Ignis was only there for entertainment.
Relationships: Ardyn Izunia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 5
Kudos: 61
Collections: Ignis whump February exchange





	deep, deep under

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PikaCheeka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PikaCheeka/gifts).



When he finally emerges from the sea of sleep, he wishes to drown again.

It is not for lack of wanting to wake, but more-so the blinding whiteness that greets him upon surfacing. The pain crawls through his mind, thrums with the sluggish beat of his blood. He turns his face away to the side to seek solace. When he attempts to raise his arm to cover his eyes, he realizes he can’t move his body. 

He inhales. Exhales slowly. He opens his eyes. Squints to adjust to the brightness. Realizes he is in a room he does not recognize. 

By then, the faint swell of panic should rise in his chest, yet there is none. He still breathes calmly. Perhaps a lacing of drugs, considering the lack of response his limbs are giving him, and the drowsiness that eagerly awaits to pull him under once more. 

He forces himself to focus before he can be pulled into the currents. He recalls he’d been in Altissia, with bruises and aches and fatigue to match. Noct laying on the ground with Lady Lunafreya. Ravus cast aside like a ragdoll. Ardyn grinning ear to ear as Ignis accepts the offer to come with him. 

To no end, apparently. He’d harboured his own motives for want of knowledge and advantage, yet this is not what he had planned. To instead be used as some damsel… how inconvenient. 

Contrary to the brightness before, he’s in a rather dark room. Metal, if he has surmised correctly. The light comes from a singular strip of bulb, perhaps newly changed. The door is closed and he hears no noise beyond that. 

The most concerning thing, though, are the IVs currently hooked up to his wrists. 

He tries clenching his wrists. He barely gets a twitch from his fingers. He wants to sleep.

“This concoction is rather strong, isn’t it?” A amused hum to Ignis’ left. 

So very slowly does he turn his head. It seems an age and a half until he manages to spot Ardyn sitting there, dark eyes tracing Ignis’ frame like one observes a zoo animal. It makes his skin crawl, and he has a sinking feeling on how terrible things will become now. 

So much for joining him. Ignis feels a jolt of shame for being held sway so easily, but its muted under the sea of drowsiness. 

Focus. He opens his mouth to speak. A mumble comes out. His tongue feels thick in his mouth. 

“You needn’t try so hard. You’ve already lost.” Only Ardyn could imitate a kind tone with words of utter poison. Ignis averts his gaze, helplessness swelling in him as sluggishly as his limbs respond to his mind. “It will be quite a while until your dear King comes to find you, but I am patient.”  
Ardyn chuckles as he stands. Ignis doesn’t manage to follow his movement. His vision is filled with Ardyn’s coat shifting as the man makes his way around Ignis’ bed. “I’ve wonderful company, after all. I’ll make certain you enjoy your time here.”

“Wh...” is all Ignis manages to get out through the slow response of his lips. He blinks once, painfully aware of the effort even that takes, and wishes he would stop breathing so calmly. 

He hears Ardyn moving again, towards his right side now. He wishes he could track Ardyn’s movements, despite knowing full well he cannot defend himself. 

Would that Noct will not see him in such a state. Then again, he prays Noct will not come for him. Judging by the interior, he must be in Gralea. Ardyn would have no reason to linger otherwise in Altissia, and the metal make of the room is not one he is familiar with. By the sounds of it, Ardyn wants Noct to come as well. 

“Impeded as you are, you manage to look so worried.” Ardyn chuckles. His face comes into sight. He reaches out and drags coarse fingers across the apple of Ignis’ cheek, his touch lingering. Ignis would recoil if he could, but all he can do is feel the slivers of revulsion that manage to worm through the sea of drowsiness. “Get some sleep, won’t you? You’ll feel much better when you wake.”

“N...” Ignis makes a noise. He imagines he’d be gasping with the effort if he had the faculties. Instead, all that spills from his mouth are pathetic sounds he’s ashamed to even make. Ardyn laughs.

“Sleep,” Ardyn commands and, by some cursed grace, Ignis drowns. 

* * *

The first thing Ignis hears is gurgling. 

There’s something in his mouth. Prodding. Poking. It presses down on his tongue and pushes in further, enough to make Ignis realize the gurgling is coming from himself.

He doesn’t choke, not really. He is still sluggish, still slow to respond, enough so that he’s disgusted to feel his mouth pool with saliva, surely leaking at the sides of his mouth. He tries to thrash. He thinks he manages the clench of his fists and the shift of his feet, useless actions expressing only mute discomfort. 

He finally pries his eyes open and wishes to snarl. Ardyn leans over him, smugness lifting his lips.

“Wonderful timing you have to wake now,” Ardyn hums. He makes a thrusting motion with his fingers, pressing in three fingers now. Ignis gags, struggling to draw in breath, mouth closing and opening around Ardyn’s fingers helplessly. It’s disgusting. He doesn’t want to experience this. He doesn’t want to look the way he will most likely look right now. 

Nausea swirls in his stomach. Ardyn laughs, distant and whited out. The fingers withdraw, enough for Ignis to splutter and inhale sharply. It’s long enough for him to think whatever game Ardyn is playing is over, but his teeth clench down around four fingers. They splay and spread his lips wide around them. He tries shaking his head, something wholly useless when Ardyn grasps the weakly flexing muscle that is Ignis’ tongue and holds it and his jaw under the weight of his hand. 

“Shhh. You’ve no agency here. Whatever made you think you were more than a toy for me to play with?” Ardyn asks. The amusement is clear in his tone. The lack of regard for Ignis’ wellbeing even clearer. Not that he had any allusion believing otherwise but perhaps some naive part of him thought he would not fall victim to this. Torture? Yes, of course. Yet he held no beliefs that he would be attractive enough to have in such a way, nor is it something he would ever prioritize. Ardyn breaching such an intimate thing has his stomach rocking in ways he expects will continue for... however many days will come. 

And, Astrals forbid, he will be here for a while, won’t he?

The panic finally, sluggishly, presents itself to the forefront of his mind, screaming at him even as those fingers force his head to turn side to side to Ardyn’s whims. Ardyn can do anything to him. Rescue is uncertain. This may be the last thing he will ever experience. 

The only silver lining to this are his friends’ absence. What he would give for them to not see him in such a state. 

The fingers are too much. It takes Ignis a moment to realise he’s writhing, albeit weakly, despite being under the influence. Ardyn’s fingers taste like sweat and something acidic. Ignis gags again. The sting of bile assaults him. He can’t breathe.

“Still reactive even after the doses we’ve given you?” Ardyn asks. Ignis makes a pathetic noise, something like a choked whine. His body lurches, screaming for reprieve. Ardyn presses his fingers deeper in response. Holds them there. Ignis’ eyes roll back. There’s a noise, a laugh, distorted through the buzzing in his ears. 

He fades—

And comes back a second later, gasping in air like a possessed man. He blinks rapidly at the dimmed light above him, and swallows again and again to rid himself of the taste of bile. The sides of his mouth are wet. He tries lifting his hand and manages it. Shakily, he wipes the sides of his mouth, and notices Ardyn sitting to the side once more, wiping his fingers on a dark cloth. Ignis’ stomach lurches and it takes all the effort he has to not physically recoil at the sight of him.

“Perhaps you’ll benefit from larger doses. It will be a good experiment, nevertheless.”

“What… what are you…?” It is barely a mumble, but it is more than what Ignis has managed before. He regrets speaking, if only to prevent Ardyn from hearing such futility. 

“What am I doing? Or perhaps what am I planning to do?” Ardyn moves closer to the bed. Ignis musters up the nastiest look he can, though he doubts that will deter the man very much. Ardyn leans over him again, and Ignis jerks when raises a hand to gently tuck away strands of hair. Revulsion coils in his gut. Ardyn grins wider. “You’ll not be awake for most of it, I’m afraid, nor do I care if you recall the experience. You were merely in the wrong place at the wrong time making the wrong choice. Alas, you’ll have to entertain me in the time it takes for King Noctis to come.”

“Noct is not… a fool…” Ignis hisses, through inwardly he is faltering at the thought that his foolish actions will bring Noct harm. He struggles to sit up, to lash at Ardyn, but the man easily presses a hand to Ignis’ chest and pushes him down. It’s embarrassing, but Ignis struggles under the singular weight pinning him nonetheless. 

“I would say your attempts to defy me is amusing, but you say nothing of value,” Ardyn says. His tone is flat, neutral. It is more chilling than anger, perhaps. He stands, shifts. He does something to the IV just out of Ignis’ line of sight. It doesn’t take him long to realize that Ardyn is making good on his words. 

“Noct will defeat you…” Ignis whispers, slumping to the bed again. His vision swims. His mind fades. He wishes Noct will not come. He knows he will. 

Ardyn’s voice follows him as he goes.

“I look forward to breaking that faith.”

* * *

“Nngh—!”

His own, high-pitched cry greets him as he wakes, strangled as it is by the throes of sleep. He lifts his hips, confused at the pleasure radiating through him. An orgasm, he thinks, and alarm immediately surfaces in him upon remembering where he must be. 

He tries sitting up, his wrists meet resistance. He looks to the side. Cuffed to the bed. Ardyn sits by his bed, hand curled around his hardened cock. 

Oh, gods. 

“No, what—ah—?!” Ignis gasps out, but it trails off into a shameful cry as something in his backside pulses. Against his prostate, he imagines. He is no stranger to how sex works, yet he’s not experienced it himself. To have this done to him in such a way—

It pulses again. He throws his head back involuntarily, arching as he feels the effects of a cresting orgasm.

Ardyn squeezes the base of his cock. The sensation stops.

A confused whimper escapes his lips. His hips stutter up. Ardyn thumbs at his slit. Ignis jerks at that, sensitive and raw. 

“Not quite yet.” Ardyn chuckles. His gaze is poison, roaming over Ignis’ body. Revulsion coils in Ignis’ stomach, but the pleasure is still there, bubbling underneath the surface, screaming for release. 

“Don’t touch me.” His snarl is weak. In response, Ardyn strokes him, thumbing again and again at his slit. He jerks and cries out, gasping with each pass over the tip of his cock. It’s so much. It’s not enough. “Stop—!” he chokes out. 

“I did say you have to entertain me, did I not?” Ardyn purrs. He’s holding something in his other hand, Ignis realizes, a remote of some sort. Before he can respond, Ardyn presses a button on it. 

Ignis’ eyes widen. The pulses are back, frequent and strong, and Ignis cries out. The pleasure reverberates through him. His thighs spread, his eyes closing, his mouth gaping. “Oh—!” he cries out, mindlessly overwhelmed by the sensations. He’s drowning. His hips thrust up. He shouldn’t be doing this. Ardyn is watching—

He forces his thighs together, though he can’t quite keep them from rubbing against one another. The thing in him pulses again and he bites his own lip hard to keep himself from moaning. He can’t do this. He doesn’t want this. Ardyn can’t do this—!

“Stop—!” he chokes out again, writhing as the pulses get stronger. His orgasm starts to crest again. His eyes roll back from the pure sensation assaulting him. His mouth gapes, and he’s unable to help the loud moans spilling from his throat. 

Distantly, he sees Ardyn lean forward, then suddenly start stroking him fast. Ignis cries out, strangled, as he comes hard. His body jerks, hips thrust up high uncontrollably as he spurts. His vision whites out. Drool leaks at the corners of his lips. 

He comes back to himself a few moments later, panting and staring at the ceiling. Ardyn peers at him amused, a hand gripping Ignis’ spread thigh lightly. Ignis tries to force himself to move, but his body won’t respond. It’s all he can do to close his eyes in utter disgust and shame at himself. 

He’s so tired. 

“Good boy...” Ardyn murmurs. 

Ignis closes his eyes and doesn’t cry.

* * *

When he wakes again, he’s barely able to stay awake. 

He’s naked, he realizes only now. Of course he is. Ardyn would want him to stay naked for his own sick games. 

He wishes Ardyn would kill him. Noct would still come since he’d think Ignis was still alive. 

Gods, no. That’s the cowards escape. He must... he must find a way to free himself. 

He tries to sit up. His body doesn’t respond. He breathes a little faster. Forces himself. Screams inwardly at his muscles to do something. 

He twitches. Shifts only a small amount. The drowsiness comes again, takes a hold of him. 

He tries to fight it, to cling to wakefulness. 

It doesn’t last.

* * *

Brightness. 

Ignis blinks at the ceiling slowly. He feels numb, distant. His body is light.

He’s so tired. 

He drowns. 

* * *

“Hah...”

White noise rings in his ears. His eyes barely open. His mouth gapes in contrast. Pants escape him. He blinks, trying to focus, yet his thoughts keep drifting just out of his reach. He’s moving. Or, at least, his body is being moved for him. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Something presses into his rear. It feels—strange. Distant. He clenches around it instinctively. His gaze casts about, attempting to discern something real, but all he sees is a metal wall. 

He’s propped up on a bed. Something fits under his chest and hips, elevating his backside. His head is turned to the side on white sheets. He frowns slowly. That’s bad, isn’t it? And he’s still moving, still being pushed and pulled in a steady motion. 

Drool leaks from the corners of his mouth. It is so hard to focus. He wishes to sleep again, but the motion has him barely awake. 

Moaning filters in slowly. Is it coming from him? His chest vibrates with the noise, so it must be. The motion goes faster. He thinks his body is twitching in response. He doesn’t care enough to find out. 

“Mmm...” A tired moan. It sounds slightly clearer. His gaze slips down. Sees his hand clenching and unclenching despite the numbness radiating all over his body. He tries curling it into a fist. It responds, but there is only the faint twitch of sensation. 

“Ah—ah...” Breathy sounds escape his lips at each motion. He stares at the opposite wall. Whatever is moving his body doesn’t matter.   
He doesn’t want to try anymore. He closes his eyes, and lets that continue.

* * *

At some point, they stop. 

He feels—wet. Slick. Something slides out of him. He blinks slowly at the sensation, brows furrowing. It’s strange, but he doesn’t pay much attention to that. Instead, there’s someone in front of him. They’re adjusting their pants before crouching down to meet his eye level. It’s Ardyn.

Some part of Ignis should care. Instead, he stares quietly at him, mouth still open, still panting. 

“So, this strain makes you docile, hm?” Ardyn murmurs. The words barely penetrate Ignis’ mind. They merely float; something Ignis does not try to focus on. Ardyn reaches for him. His hand cups Ignis’ cheek. Ignis blinks slowly at the touch, staring at him in faint confusion. “Yes, yes. Don’t give me such a dull look. Perhaps I’ll switch to the next experimental batch after a few more days.”

Ardyn lets go only to thumb at his lips. Ignis doesn’t try to resist when he pushes in two fingers, pressing down on his tongue. 

“So loose. An eager whore, I would have mistaken you as, if not for the lack of intelligence in your gaze.” Ardyn huffs and pushes in another finger. Ignis groans softly as he starts thrusting his fingers in and out. “Suck on them, won’t you? Or do you lack the presence of mind to do just that?”

Ignis doesn’t care to, but some part of him acknowledges the command. His tries to close his mouth, but the movement is sluggish. Ardyn looks disgusted, withdrawing his hand.

Abruptly, Ardyn backhands him. 

The angle is awkward. The blow lands against Ignis cheek, though his other is turned to the bed. His head bounces from the force, face turned partially into the sheets, and his mind reels. Distantly, he feels nausea rise, and is sure something other than saliva is pooling into his mouth right now. Red stains the white of the sheets. From his mouth, perhaps. 

Above him, a scoff. Footsteps. Then a door opens and slams. 

Ignis blinks slowly, and tries to breathe through his nose instead.

**Author's Note:**

> CLUTCH FIC


End file.
